


Hostile Hospitality

by PugilisticSonofaGun



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-23
Updated: 2015-01-23
Packaged: 2018-03-08 17:01:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3216752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PugilisticSonofaGun/pseuds/PugilisticSonofaGun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An unlikely relationship blooms between two 'enemies'. A professional, a noob, and sixteen other nutjobs, all in one silly-sprinkled story!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Noob

**Author's Note:**

> HI AGAIN! By popular demand, (to like what, 3 people?) I've came to this site to post this story. Mostly because my main character, Tristan, is in another fic I'm helping out with :) Enjoy my silly story!

He wasn't a very social person. Nobody could truly say that they know him well enough. Nobody really goes out of the way to bother him, or make friends. Well, except for Demoman and Engineer... maybe even that little hyped-up mongrel, Scout. But that was because they were the more social men in the group. He was on the other end of the spectrum. So unattached from the rest of them, that he has his own living quarters separate from the barracks, up in the loft of one of the barns in the battlefield of 2Fort. His place of residence and work. He couldn't have it any other way. He likes the silence. The way he can hear himself think. It's reassuring. Comforting.

Sometimes... overwhelming.

This was one of those late night -early mornings where he just couldn't sleep, no matter how hard he tried to. Something was always nagging on his mind, but he couldn't pinpoint what it was exactly that was causing his sleep deprivation. It felt like a painful, writhing little nugget lodged deep within his stomach, and it seemed to like the silence, too. Whenever he does go into the main barracks, and actually socializes with a couple of his fellow co-workers, the pain seems to subside a bit. But it never fully left. Never. So, to occupy himself in the hours he should be sleeping, he took up one of his favorite little hobbies. Knitting. It kept the marksman's hands busy while he thought. He sat up in his hammock, similar to a sugar glider pouch, he mused, and picked up his needles and his 'work in progress' off from the table sitting beside him.

Across from his hanging bed was a small window, the same small window that he shot heads from, but also used for simple star-gazing during nights like these. The night progressed like this for a good thirty minutes, until a small creak from the floor boards spooked him enough from his trance. It came from the middle of the room. 'Strange.' He thought to himself. 'There ain't no wind.' His eyes slowly scanned to the window while thinking this, then widened when he came upon a conclusion. He whipped around an grabbed up his SMG that also had it's place on the table behind him, and aimed at the space in the middle of the room.

"Awroight spook, ya bettah show y'self."

* * *

 

His team was in desperate need of a spy. It had been four months since the previous BLU Spy retired from the never ending battle, and the rest of the mercenaries thought that they could handle everything just fine without. Nope. Never could be anymore wrong. Ever since his leaving, BLU hadn't won a single battle.

Who would've known that spies could be that important?

The BLU Soldier thought that it was just the team's morale that was keeping them from victory and started punishing them for each loss they received. Engineer, being the voice of reason in most arguments and difficult times, suggested that their failures were because they were outnumbered and that instead of punishing the classes that they already posses, they should obtain the ninth one to have equal advantage. "Hmm... I LIKE THE WAY YOU THINK, PRIVATE!" Soldier pats the Texan on his back almost hard enough for his hard hat to fly off his shaven head. Engineer simply lifts it back onto his head with his left hand, and sports a slightly uncomfortable smile towards his 'leader'. "I'LL PUT AN ORDER IN FOR HQ AT... " He stops to looks at the ceiling and stroke his chin thoughtfully. "OH EIGHT HUNDRED TOMORROW." He looks around at all his fellow soldiers in a sweep. "ALL THE REST OF YOU MAGGOTS ARE DISMISSED FOR THE EVENING! ME AND ENGIE WILL PUT IN FOR A NEW PRIVATE." Soldier then does an about-face, and leaves the conference room, while everyone else roles their eyes and thanks the Engineer.

Especially Scout, whose last punishment included the latrines and his toothbrush.

* * *

 

Today was his first day at 2Fort. He came by the supply train, along with the monthly shipments of ammunition and rations, which the team seemed to be more fond of than himself, and completely overlooked his presence. He just shrugged it off and went to the main barracks to meet the eight men he was to work with. As soon as he went into what could be considered the living room, he bumped right into Soldier, who made him jump from shock and lose his luggage. When he slightly recovered, he apologized and tried to bend down to pick up his things. This only earned him a barking at. "WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING, YOU SNAIL-SLURPING... wait, when did you get here?" Spy opened his mouth to answer, only to be interrupted. "WELL, THAT DOESN'T MATTER NOW, HUH? STAND UP STRAIGHT, CROUTON, LEMME GET A LOOK AT YOU!"

Spy stood as straight as the human skeleton could possibly let anyone, and tried to avoid eye contact with the taller man as Soldier scrutinized him. He looked to be just a smidgen older that their Scout, with no facial wrinkles on the visible pieces of face. Very skinny, something he would have to fix. Then he noticed that he was vibrating in his shoes, and chuckled slightly under his breath. "AWW! ARE YOU SCARED? DO YOU WANT YOUR MOTHER?!" Soldier proceeded to jab him in the chest with a meaty index finger, which made him stumble backwards a bit. "YOU ARE THE SORRIEST EXCUSE FOR A SPY THAT I HAVE EVER SEEN IN ALL OF MY ELEVEN YEARS OF SERVICE! BUT... I guess I can make improvements..." He broke eye contact to look away for a bit, then noticed that the spy was still standing there. "WELL? WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE, PRIVATE? I'M SURE THE MEDIC WOULD LIKE YOU TO GET YOUR SORRY ASS OVER TO HIS OFFICE TO GET A CHECK UP! LET'S GO! HUP-TWO! HUP-TWO!"

Unknowing of how he pulled it off, he did an about-face with his luggage and proceeded to march out of the room involuntarily to the maniac's cadence. At least until he got out of earshot of the man.

That took a lot of marching.

* * *

 

It was an hour later, and he still hadn't found the Infirmary. Just when he was about to give up and curl up in a corner of the hallway network, he heard the mumbles of two people conversing. 'Dieu merci! I'm saved!', he thought as his eyes lit up and a smile spread across his face. He followed the voices around the bend and peeked around a corner to see a tall, black, one-eyed man with an interesting European accent, and a shorter, loudmouthed American kid, blatantly disregarding his presence to instead engage in an apparently interesting cryptozoologic story.

"And Aye'm tellin' ya, boyo!" The black man leans in closer to the kid, and just barely whispers, "Nessie's real... s'how Aye lost me eye." He makes the moment more dramatic by slowly pointing at his eye patch.

"Aww c'mon man! Tha's fuckin' retahded!" The kid then makes the move to shove the black man away. "And gettaway from me, cockfag, ya smell like tha inside ova liquah store!"

The black man then proceeds to glare at the kid with his one angry eye. "Alright boyo, but eef ya read a tabloid statin' that tha monster married ye mum..."

"Ya bahlieve those? Jesus, Demo!"

"Ahem... gentlemen?"

Both men turned their attention to the pitiful looking Spy, who came from behind the safety of the corner. Demoman chortled a bit as he spoke up. " Are ye our new Spy? Ye look lyke yer aboot tah cry!"

"Haha! Yeah! 'N why do yah still have yo shit with ya, man?" He gestured towards the Spy's luggage that he was still carrying around. "Didn't anybody show ya yer room?"

The Spy looks down at his shoes and shakes his head. "Non. For ze last..." he pauses to check the time on his watch, and upon doing so, his eyebrows raise. "'our, I've been trying to find ze Doctor's office... do you gentlemen think you can 'elp moi?"

"Alight then, Aye guess one 'o us 'ill have ta-ONETWOTHREE NOT IT!" Demo's fingers flew up and tapped his nose.

Scout glared. "Dammit! Why 'm I always the one who has ta show the fuckin' newbies 'round?!" His arms flap around in Spy's direction for emphasis.

"Becoose yer not fast enough!" Demoman then turns to jog away, not before sticking his tongue out at the boy. "Later, Scoot!"

"AUGH!" His whole upper body slouches foward in defeat. After a couple of awkward seconds, Scout's head turns towards Spy. "Well, c'mon, assmunch. Tha soona we get this done, tha soona I get ta listen to my ball game."

* * *

 

"So, you are ze Scout, oui?"

"Don't wanna fuckin' talk ta ya, dickface."

Spy frowns and looks down. His attempt to make polite small-talk done so in vain. "Désolé."

"And quit talkin' in that faggoty-ass shit."

"Sorry."

A few more twists and turns in the hallway, and they end up in front of the big swing doors of the Infirmary. Scout turns back to Spy, and raises his hand towards the door as if to sarcastically say 'tah-dah'. "Ah, oui. Merci- oops! I mean-"

"No fuckin' problem." Scout turns and walks off, waving him off while doing so. Spy just stood there and rubbed his arm for a few moments. He didn't understand what he did that could have rubbed the boy the wrong way, but didn't have enough time to ponder this because yet again, he was being yelled at. This time, to move out of the way of the swing doors.

"BEWEGEN! RAUS AUS DEM WEG, DÜNNE MANN!"

The wheeled gurney sped down the hall at almost a physically impossible rate. Two men were on it. The one having the actual emergency was completely engulfed in flames and his screams and thrashes were the soundtrack to the German commands, while the other was riding on the back of the gurney, kicking it along and giggling with a giddiness that made the Spy very uncomfortable.

After the first two bolted through the Infirmary entrance, a third ran by as fast as he possibly could, which wasn't really fast. The third one's appearance unhinged the Spy even further, as, well, 'it' was clad in a full flame-retardant suit. The person jogged right past Spy without so much as a second glance. It was alright though. Spy was used to the ignorance by now.

After a few moments he took to regain himself, he risked taking a peek inside the doors. The apparently German doctor was moving around the gurney at a daft rate, making alot of his medical instruments jump off of trays with each move. It seemed that he was looking for something in particular. The rubber-clad person stood a bit away, but still joined in with the screaming flame-ball of a man by hysterically chittering as fast as anything possibly could.

This was getting slightly annoying.

Spy's expression dropped into a glare as he walked in and past the loud trio, over towards one of the maintenance closets. When he retrieved a mop bucket that was adequate enough, he waltzed over to the hospital-grade sink and filled it up as full as he could carry with water. When he made it to the foot of the hospital bed, he paused and looked to see if his actions were being watched.

The German was still yelling and shuffling though shit.

The rubber thing had both it's hands resting on either side of it's head and was shaking violently.

Fireball was still on fire. And still screeching.

"Ugh..." Spy threw the water onto the man with swift movement, completely suffocating the flames, but in the process, made the three standing around the bed soaked as well. After a couple of moments of heavy breathing and dripping, Spy dropped the bucket, and smoothed the top of his head with a squishy gloved hand. His vision went red when he saw what the doctor took up doing.

He was poking at the charred flesh. And giggling.

"WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO START HELPING ZHE MAN?! DON'T YOU SEE HE'S IN PAIN? HE NEEDS MEDICAL ATTENTION!" His outburst made Pyro jump. Spy was shaking with fury.

The doctor just raised an eyebrow."Now, zat is no vay to talk to ze only doctor on zis team..." A disturbing smile stretched on the physician's face "... Unless you too like missing organs." Spy's shoulders dropped. The doctor just kept prodding. "Vow Pyro! Zese are some horrific third degree burns! Herr Engineer looks almost completely unrecognizable! Gute Arbeit!"

Pyro let out some heart-wrenching mumble-sobs. "Herr Engineer? Can you heah me?"

"Uggghhhhhh..." The poor little man on the bed couldn't even move his jaw enough to let actual words come out. Tears started to sting at the corners of Spy's eyes. "Vell, at least he's cognate enough..." The cruel doctor dipped down under one of the tables and finally found what it was he was looking for. It looked like a big... gun. "Looks like ze fun's ovah, dank Mutter drüben..." He shot Spy a nasty glare. He then aimed the huge gun at the man, only confirming things in Spy's head. He was going to put the man down. Like an animal. Right in front of him. Oh dieu, he was about to puke, he covered his eyes, he couldn't...

Instead of the sound of a gun being fired, a smooth, machine-like whirr took it's place. This made the Spy lookup from the palm of his hand. " Qu'est-ce ...?" The man was bathed in a misty blue glow. All the burns were reversing on his skin, as well. Horrible black scabs were replaced with tanned, healthy skin. The more he was healed, the more his chest rose and fell. The only thing the magic gun couldn't bring to prior glory was his clothes. What used to be his work overalls was now just a pile of rags. The ex-burn victim sat up after a good thirty seconds, and shot a vicious glare at the rubber person.

"BOY! WHAT'D AH TELL YA 'BOUT PLAYIN' WITH MATCHES?! YA COULD'VE CAUGHT THA WHOLE PLACE ON FIRE!"

Pyro mumbled more incoherent noises, and kicked at some invisible dirt on the ground. Engineer let out a sigh while he dropped and shook his head. He then gave a genuinely grateful smile towards the German. "Thanks, Doc. Betcha Ah looked like a piece a well done bacon!"

"More zan you'd evah know." The doctor returned it with a surprisingly warm smile, and patted the Texan on a naked shoulder. "Maybe you should find a new uniform, Herr? Zat one is beyond repair..."

"Ya, well..." he then finally caught a glimpse of the third person in the room with him, struck with awe and silence. His face lit up yet again. "Hey, you must be our new spah, huh?"

"Uh, oui! Oui Monsieur!" Spy was still in a daze. The man that could only groan a minute ago was now sitting up, and was even offering a handshake. It was amazing.

"Ah'm the team's Engineer." Spy returned the handshake. "It's a pleasure ta meet cha. Wish it was on better terms, though!" Engineer chuckles softly.

"Sorry to intrude, but since Herr Spy is new, he needs his check-up. Und since you're healed, you can take ze Pyro viz you to get your uniform." The doctor sported an unamused expression.

"Oh, yup! Sorry, Doc! I'll be on mah way, then." Engineer hopped off the bed and looked around a bit. Then glared over at Pyro, who was mumbling towards the ground until his/her eyes met his, then jumped a little as a reaction. "Py, where'd my hardhat gone off to?" Pyro, without eye contact given, gave a scorched and scratched Tonka-truck yellow helmet from behind it's back. When Engineer took it from Pyro, the rubber person held it's hands up defensively, and uncomfortably giggle-mumbled. "C'mon boy, I'd have a word witcha.." Engineer lead off towards the door with Pyro in tow. Pyro looked back before going out the doors, and waved Spy goodbye.

"Now wizout further interruption..." Medic slowly slapped two baby blue gloves onto each hand, and gives the Spy an uncontrollably and genuinely excited grin. "Let's prep you for surgery!"

* * *

 

When he got out of the Infirmary and finally checked his watch, he stopped in place in disbelief. He thought it was the aftereffects of the anesthesia. Hell, that would be why all his actions are sloppy. He rubbed his eyes and checked again. It was now 8:47 at night. It had been seven hours in surgery. Spy slumped forward and grabbed the wall for support. His legs went numb and buckled under his weight. He fell, face first, and cried out in a mix of frustration and pain. Everyone here was batshit insane! He wanted to leave! Even if he didn't have a home or family to go to, just as long as he wasn't here. Then, he heard stomping. Not normal weight person happily waltzing down the hallway stomping, no, but more like a mammoth-sized pissed off bull elephant charging towards him stomping. He didn't have the energy to turn his head and look, just enough to cringe and wait for death. But death never came. Instead, the source of the stomping stopped abruptly by his side and nudged him. "Is leetle man alright? Is dead?"

It was muffled and exhausted, but a reply came. "... n-non."

Then, Spy got scooped up and lifted like a tired puppy, hands slotted under his armpits and lifted just above the floor. When the feeling of ascending stopped, Spy rocked his head up to see who was helping him. The world spun, he couldn't focus. There was three of the man's head in his vision, but the look of concern was apparent. "Come, I feed you, do better with food in you." The giant man then carried him down the hall in a bridal hold, mumbling something about beef hash.

He didn't even remember losing consciousness, but when he regained it, he found himself siting in a simple metal chair pushed into a big, shiny metal table. The mess hall was almost too big. And empty. He seemed to be alone.

He didn't want to be alone! Even if he was just with that giant, strange man, it was better than no one!

Just when he started to hyperventilate, he noticed he wasn't alone in the room. Completely across the table sat a man reading a newspaper with a mug beside him. Even though he was inside, he still wore a slouch hat and a pair of dark aviators. He took a look at his watch, then over to the Spy and smirked. "Ah, you finally awake?" He stood up from his chair, folded the newspaper up and tucked it under his arm, picked up his mug and walked towards the man he addressed. "Yeh must of taken quiet a tumble, if the big bloke had ta carry you in here." He chuckles aloud. "Ya look like shit, mate." Spy looks down and grumbles. "Aw, don't take it personally. We were all newbies once." He paused a moment to swish whatever was in the mug around, and then placed it in front of the Spy. "When you're done with it, wash it out and put the mug up. Ya need it more than I do." He patted Spy on the back and walked off to a big, door less entrance Spy assumed was to the kitchen, and poked his head in to yell at who ever was in there.

Spy tipped the mug towards himself and peered in. The liquid, if you would call it that, was completely dark and thick. The pungent aroma stung the inside of his nose. He cringed. The thought 'How can this even be edible?' ran through his head.

When he looked back up, he saw the man in the hat talking to the guy that carried him in here. The giant had that same look of concern he gave to the Spy. "Da, but, Sniper needs food, too! Can't function well without!"

Sniper pats the giant on his stomach tenderly. "Naw Heavy, I'll be alroight. Honest. Don't need alot for functionin'." Sniper gives Heavy a friendly smile and turns to leave. "Do feed tha spook, though. He looks a might on the feeble-side." Spy shot a nasty glare at the back of the Sniper's head, and in response, received a chuckle.

When Sniper turned out of the mess hall entrance, Heavy came over to Spy's side with a steaming plate of hash, which he placed in front of him. It looked good, better than that sludge in a mug Sniper called coffee, but in honesty, "Ah, I am not really hungry, Monsieur..." "Nonsense! Eat! Is good! Especially after Doktor's surgery, da?"

Spy picked the fork up out of the heap, and started poking at the small mountain of food. "What was ze surgery for, anyway? Did I have somezing wrong wiz me?"

Heavy chuckles lightly. "Nyet, is surgery for heart. Doktor alters heart for Respawn system and Über charging."

"Respawn?"

"Da." Heavy's face lightens up like a child's. He loves conversations, no matter who the audience. "Literally re-builds you after death. You never die out here." Heavy notices Spy's face contorting in confusion. "Computer brings you back to life, and re-builds body to put you back into. Is... uncomfortable process."

Spy feigns understanding. "Ah. Well, while we're on ze same note, what is Über charging? Is it painful, too?"

Heavy sits in an empty chair next to the Frenchman, knowing that the conversation would take a little while longer now. "Nyet. When Medic heals enough with healing gun, it gets charge from gage in hearts that he placed in us. When he recharges gage in heart, we become invincible for short period of time. Actually feels amazing."

Spy looked mesmerized. Technology like this actually existed? "Fascinating." Involuntarily and out of habit, Spy reached his hand, picked up and lead the mug up to his face. "So, what is your position on ze team? Are you ze cook?"

Heavy laughs hard and long at that, eventually wiping tears from his eyes. "Ah, Nyet. I..." He rests a big hand on his chest boastfully. "... am team's Heavy Weapons Expert. Happy to meet leetle Spy!"

"Oui, it's a pleazure to meet you formally as well." Spy tips the mug to his mouth and accidentally takes a swig of the acrid liquid. His eyes shot open from the taste, but, trying to be a suave and purposeful man, he swallows like he meant to. The liquid makes him choke a little.

"Is leetle Spy alright?" Heavy starts lightly patting his back.

A few more coughs, and Spy meets Heavy's gaze with his own. "O-oui. Fine." He feels a slight buzzing in the back of his skull. His heart feels like a fluttering bird. All the tiredness seemed to have seeped away from his body. Hell, he felt like he could take over the world at this rate! (If he wasn't trying to fight back the urge to regurgitate.) His eyes blink hard and roll around in his sockets, it felt like he had to fight to get a hold on his body to not go haywire. Did Sniper put cocaine in this?! "I zink... *hack* I will retire to my quarters for ze evening... good night, Monsieur..."

"Alright, leetle Spy... If need anything, just knock, da?"

"Oui, merci." Spy get up and zips out of the mess hall, getting to his room being top priority. Heavy frowns down at the plate of food Spy left, (he barely put a dent in it...) and shrugged. Maybe he can feed it to Medic! He loves Heavy's cooking, and Heavy loves his praise, so why not? Heavy grabs the plate up and takes his leave as well.

* * *

 

He checked the clock hanging on the wall again for the umpteenth time this hour. 1:34. In the god damned morning. He's been pacing nonstop in the middle of his room for so long now, that he's pretty sure that there's grooves in the floor. He needed to do something about this extra energy, he clearly couldn't sleep a smidgen... 

...His first battle is tomorrow, maybe he could funnel his energy into something productive by exploring the area. 'That would give me a good advantage, and maybe the rest of the team would warm up to me more...' He smiled to himself while he looked out his small window. A huge, plump full moon barely hung in the sky, illuminating all the buildings spreading across the battlefield in a light blue hue. Spy nods once to confirm his thoughts, and turns to his desk to collect his weapons and tools. He takes a second to calibrate his watch, to make sure it has enough battery for emergencies, and practically runs out of his room from excitement.

Dilapidated buildings. Piles of scrap. A long and winding sewer system. Spy finally crosses the only bridge that connects the two sides, stopping on the opposite side to scan the new territory. Their building is pretty much the exact replica of the BLU one... just... made of wood. He goes inside, through some hallways and a courtyard, up a rickety staircase, through one more hallway and ends up in... *INSERT DRUM ROLL HERE*... the battlements.

'Hmm... kind of anticlimactic if I do say so myself...' Just when he was about to turn away, his eye caught a glimmer of light. He turns back and focuses on the source. A crack in a door. 'Well, the inhabitants wouldn't mind if I popped in and poked around a bit, especially if they can't see me!' Spy snickers under his breath at his pun, cloaks, and sneaks inside. He slowly pushes the door open, and puts it back in its previous state once he quietly enters.

Musty wood smell smacked him in the face first, which made him think of how rotten the infrastructure actually was. One lone candle sat on a desk to his left, and did its job to light the place up quite nicely. He looked across the walls and noticed memorabilia of what appeared to be an old couple, a strapping young man with a dead crocodile spread across the hood of a vehicle, two young men on a boat holding up fish they caught... just random snippets of... wait a moment... that boy there looks an awful lot like...

Spy hears a creak behind him and turns around. When he did, he too made a slight, and accidental creak, but anything could be heard in this thick silence. He sees the other person's face pick up from their hands and looks across the room. 'Oh dieu, he heard me!' The other person reaches behind himself, picks up a SMG off of the table behind himself and aims seemingly right where Spy was standing. "Awroight spook, ya bettah show y'self." Luck must of hated his existence tonight because right then and there, his cloak wore off.


	2. Bonne Nuit, Dormez Bien

Silent minutes seemed like eons. Silence so thick and suffocating that the tiniest of pins could be heard dropping. The only visible movement was the rising and falling of diaphragms, and the candlelight making their silhouettes dance on the adjacent walls. Spy was truly scared for his life. Ashamed and scared, like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Only with a gun pointing at him as a substitute for a scolding mother.

Sniper must have picked up on the fear, probably smelled it, because after a while, one of his furrowed brows rose out of curiosity. Why hasn't the spook tried to fillet him yet? And a better question, why was he shaking like a leaf? Shouldn't spies be suave and professional? Unless this is a cruel joke to test how gullible he is...

"Hmpf.. okay Spook, humor me. Why are ya in me room, at this hour no less, when Respawn ain't on and I could put a bullet though yer head?"

Spy's stomach felt like it fell through his body. He didn't have a lot of knowledge on the system, but knew just enough to sense what the Sniper was implying. His face paled. His heart beating almost painfully. He swallowed comically hard, and cleared his throat, "I-I-I w-was trying to... explore ze fort, you know, to have a-a better understanding of where things are placed.. désolé - I didn't mean to intrude, Monsieur..."

Sniper just stared out of disbelief. The Spy was being polite... to him?! The sincerity in his eyes seemed genuine... Now it's his turn.

"Heh, alroight then..." Sniper stood up and out of his hammock, and placed his gun back behind him on the table, his eyes never leaving the Spy for one second. He then straightened up and slowly rose his hands to about shoulder height. "Here's yeh only chance at this. If yer intentions are pure, then yeh won't shoot me. If ya do, well, don't have much to live for anyway, eh?"

Spy took a second to look over Sniper in this new light and position. This one seemed to be taller, yet younger than the BLU version, but despite his apparent youth, he still looked burdened and stressed, even tired in his face. Even his dark, thick brown hair was mussed up from tossing and turning. No matter how hard they tried, though, those features never took away from how fit and built his body was, which Spy could see exceptionally well, as Sniper was only wearing pajama bottoms colored red and cutely decorated with yellow little crosshairs. Scars and body hair sprinkled his chiseled body, each scar more than likely backed up with a humorous story. But, the most stunning feature the Sniper sported was his deep, lively, analyzing blue eyes. And they seemed to spark up each time they followed Spy's movements.

Spy's hand quivered, appearing to struggle with the effort of trying to reach for his gun in his shoulder holster. After a little bit of internal conflict, Spy rests his hand to his side in defeat. "I-I... I cannot." His eyes started to tear up as he broke eye contact to try to blink them away. "Heh, I'm a complete failure, non? Can't even shoot ze enemy..." He started to choke up sobs, which put an even more concerned look on the Sniper's face. "My 'ole team knew zat I was useless from ze very beginning. I just... *sniff* couldn't bring myself to believe zat." His forearm rose to cover his eyes. "I deserve to be taken out like zis. *sniffle* Maybe zey will get someone who could actually do 'is job." He then breaks out into full sob mode.

Sniper's expression dropped. This was way too much emotion for him to handle from anybody.  _'Ugh, why does it always have to be me?'_  Sniper bites his lower lip and scooches awkwardly forward, closer to Spy, to rest his hand on his left shoulder. "Oi mate, yer not a failure, yer still aloive. Heh. That's bettah than some spooks... roight?"

Spy stops sobbing and jumps when Sniper's hand touched him. When he realized the hand wasn't reaching over to crush his windpipe, he slowly looked up from his tear-soaked arm, and both sets of eyes met. Most people hide things, morbid secrets, hidden emotions, things that they try hard to push back into their brain, and keep away from the civil world. The Spy has learned over the few years of espionage that their eyes can, and usually will, deceive and give secrets away. This man, though, had the most tranquil and honest look in his than any 'harmful' person he has ever seen had. He felt fluttering in his gut again, but it wasn't from fear... it was something else.

*knock knock*

Both men look towards the door with wide eyes. Sniper looks back and pulls Spy in closer to whisper in his ear. "'Kay mate, you jus... invisible yerself, I ken handle this, 'roight?" Sniper smirks when Spy obliged by nodding, and dissolved into thin air. The taller man straightens up and moves to the door to put his ear to it.

"'Ello, Bushman? Are you in zere?" *knock knock knock*

Sniper rolled his eyes and looks back to make sure Spy was still cloaked, then opened the door. The RED Spy pushes through the Australian with all the frustration and selfishness of a royal, and gives the place a thorough scan once he got inside. When the results were at the very least 'adequate', the Spy turned and gave a sharp glare to his fellow teammate. "Alright, Bushman... who where you talking to? 'Ave you finally lost it from sitting up 'ere and microwaving your brain all day?"

Sniper just decides to play along at this stage of the conversation rather than argue. Just as long as he can get THIS damn spook out of here. "*sigh* Don't know whatcha mean, Spoi... soilent as the dead o' noight up here. An if Oi needed a mum, I would've jus called me own blood-one instead o' dealin' with yeh."

Spy glares up at the Australian and sneers. "Zis is ze zanks I get for looking out for my colleagues, oui?" He straightens up and pulls his cigarette case out of his coat. "You may not know it, imbécile, but I have saved your life too many times to count-"

"An' do ya recall me askin' fer yer assistance, frog?!" Sniper interjected a little louder than talking. BLU Spy noticed him visibly shaking with irritation. "Oi'm a grown man, ya smelly crossant-munching git! Oi ken take care o' me own self, don't need you followin' me loike Mother Goose!"

BLU Spy looked between the two, half-expecting a fist-fight to occur. RED Spy just stood, facial expression completely stoic and passive, one arm across his chest holding the elbow of the other, puffing on his cigarette balanced between his lips and his fingers. Sniper huffed, straightened up, and held the bridge of his nose. Finally after a verbal stalemate that lasted some odd number of minutes, Spy was the first one to speak. "Did you work all of what you needed to out of your system, mon ami?"

Sniper didn't look up, but still glared. "Spoi, please. Get out o' me room... go bother somebody else at two in the mornin', just PLEASE... let me sleep."

"I know you suffer from insomnia, mon chéri. If anyzing, I am keeping you company." A small grin spreaded on his face at the groan the taller man gave to that comment. Spy seemed to love to annoy people, but his favorite victim is the poor Aussie standing in front of him. Well, and the BLU Sniper and Engineer, but this Sniper was the most fun, maybe because the way he reacted? He didn't have a lot of patience, unlike his counterpart...

*crrreeeeeeeaaakkk*

Both arguing men looked over towards the noisy corner. Sniper knew what made that noise, but he was damned if he was going to let Spy figure it out. He looked back over to the crimson-suited man, and smiled. "Uh, don't worry 'bout the creaking, mate. Buildin's a lil' old..." Spy crept closer to the corner in question, slowly reaching out with his right arm with all the weariness and caution of a... Spook. Sniper grabbed his shoulders before he got too close, though, spun him towards the door, and started walking him to it. "Welp, Oi think ya overstayed yer welcome." Sniper started, and finally shoved him out. Before he could shut the door, though, a foot blocked it, and an angry, steely blue eye peered in.

"First, don't scuff my shoe, baiseur. Second, watch your back... BLU has a new spy employed. Be on guard."

The warning was ominous. Sniper agreed by nodding, and spoke up just above a whisper. "Aroight. Thanks Spook. G'noight." He opened the door just enough for the fuming Frenchman to take his foot out, then shut it.

He stood there for a second, shaking his head and exhaling loudly through his mouth. He rested his head in his palm and continued to breathe rhythmically, trying to calm himself, not noticing the uncloaking sound the BLU Spy's watch made or the footsteps nearing him. Spy's head craned to the right a little, trying to get a glimpse of Sniper's face again. If given a chance, Spy would do anything in his power to make a smile on that tired face, to make Sniper happy. "...Sniper...?" No answer. "Uh... merci. I am grateful zat you chose not to kill me..."

Sniper rubbed his eyelids, and chuckled lightly. "No worries. Everyone deserves a second chance." Something about the way he said it was melancholic and distant, and made Spy shudder lightly.

Quiet minutes ticked by. Again, stillness took over them. Spy looked at the back of the distressed man's head and thought to himself, 'this is my only chance...'.

He closed the gap between them, and wrapped his arms around the thin torso, locking his wrists on Sniper's stomach, and buried his face into his right shoulder. Sniper jumped at this action, of course, as he lifted his arms up and almost reached behind himself to rip him off, until soft, slightly muffled, affectionate cooing was heard.

" _Frère Jacques, frère Jacques,_

_Dormez-vous? Dormez-vous?_

_Sonnez les matines. Sonnez les matines._

_Ding, dang, dong. Ding, dang, dong._ "

Sniper stood, staring at the door still in front of him with half-lidded eyes. His cheeks blush, and a small, but noticeable smile grew on his face. Spy had repeated the nursery rhyme two more times, still in the same position around the Australian, one of his hands rubbing slowly on his rippled belly. After a while, the singing stopped, but nobody dared to move, everything was blissful where they remained. That was, until Sniper slowly leaned against the door and started snoring softly. Spy's eyes got big, and slowly rolled up, focusing on the sleeping man's expression. Spy couldn't help but smile, as he wrapped one of Sniper's arms around his own shoulders, and started shimmying him over to his hammock. He had a hard time, but managed to pull him into the hanging bed by himself, and tucked him in with all the knitted blankets and quilts piled in it. Spy stood up, and looked back down at the sleeping Aussie with a smile still adorned. ' _Heh, I helped an insomniac sleep today_.' He thought, thinking back to the whole argument he witnessed. He dismissed it (it wasn't his business, right? Then again, he is a spy...) and slowly reached to the sleeping man's head and started combing through his thick, dark hair with his fingers. "Bonne nuit, dormez bien."

Spy stood up straight, tried to brush his suit off, and showed himself out, not before giving one more glance back at the Sniper, smiling as he quietly shut the door behind him.

* * *

He didn't even bother to take his suit off when he got back to his own room. Well, he did manage to get off his jacket and tie, and kick his shoes somewhere into the room, but the rest stayed on him as he fell into his bed face-first, instantly falling asleep. He did not, however, got a lot of shut-eye though, as about five minutes later, knocks that would've probably taken the whole wall down echoed though the tiny living space.

*BANG BANG BANG*

"FRENCH FRY! RISE AND SHINE! YOU NEED TO REPORT TO YOUR MORNING DUTIES, PRONTO!"

"Ugghhhh!... Oui, I'll get on it, Monsieur..." Spy didn't even have to SEE the man to get a horrible headache from him. He slowly rose from his bed, and gripped his forehead tenderly. "Uuf... zis is going to suck..." Spy sarcastically said to himself. Better to do what the man says as soon as possible, another yelling from Soldier might make his head explode...

 


	3. Guardian Angel

"Uuggh..."

The tile wall was a soothing yet exhilarating cold on his face, and felt contradicting to the hot shower water hitting his boney, pale back. Even though the locker rooms had separate stalls, he had to wait for the others to get done with their hygienic duties and leave before he could tend to his own, which took a while. Better to be safe than sorry, right? Now they're probably mowing down all the breakfast, but he doesn't mind, he usually doesn't eat. In all honesty, there were more pressing matters on his mind...

*click*

"Yo, is anybody in heah?"

Spy didn't move for a second, but his eyes shot open when hearing the young man's voice. "O-oui?"

"Aw great. Freakin' French-fag... " The Scout kept muttering to himself while he walked to the side of the room with the personal lockers, the sound of feet slapping the hard floor a constant marker on where he was at the moment. Spy decided not to make this awkward by not speaking anymore and instead trying to hurry the hell up and out of here. He waited until he heard the squeak of a shower down a couple of stalls, then wrapped a towel around his waist and slowly sneaked out of his own stall to the lockers, and ducked into the corner where his was. He tried as quickly as possible to put on all his vestments, and was even down to gelling and combing back his hair for his balaclava, when he heard a small sound resonating from behind him. Spy slowed his combing and hesitantly rotated his head. As soon as he did, though, he brought his hands to his face and turned away to try to quickly mask his identity, only to do so in vain. The damage was done.

Scout's eyes and mouth couldn't have opened any wider.

Still facing the wall, Spy's hands drop in defeat as he sighed. "... 'ow much did you see, garçon?"

"Man... you look youngah dan me... I thought all spies were old, why are-"

Spy turned to face the previously hateful Scout, still sans mask, and gave him a worried look. He had a pale, thin face, no facial hair or sign of any on it. Dark circles and bags under his stormy, gray eyes. Charcoal hair that shined with the recently applied hair gel was swept out of his face, with the exception of a little rebellious lock drooping over the left side of his forehead. Thin, groomed eyebrows that had risen from concern quickly furrow from Scout's assumption. "True, I may not be as ' _experienced_ ' as most of ze spies zat come zrough here, but I have met all ze criteria at the time of hiring..." Spy looked away for a moment, deep in thought. "zis was ze only choice I had..." The Frenchman looked back at the boy with a desperate plea in his eyes. "Please Scout, a spy keeps his identity a secret, no one must know who I am or what I look like. Would you be able to-"

"Ppfffftt," Scout waved his hand dismissively at Spy, and casually strolled to his own locker. "Whatever. No matter da age, y'all act da same... don't even understand why dat's flippin' vital..." Spy looked down at his feet as he slowly and hesitantly put his mask on, and sighed. Why was he even hiding his face? With all his collected ' _experience_ ', this inhabitable desert might be his final resting place. "Hey, Spy?" With his train of thought successfully broken, his steely eyes looked up and at the questioning runner. "Whattaya know 'bout the Spy before ya?" The question was drawn out in thought, and was almost whispered.

"Ze Spy... didn't he retire? Zat was what I was told by HQ..."

Scout huffed a fake laugh. "Retired they says. Like there even was da option." The young man's eyes met the Spy's with all the seriousness in the world. "Da man didn't retire. He got killed aftah hours, respawn was off. Saw da body gettin' carried to da infirmary by Heavy and da Doc the mornin' aftah..." Scout kept the silence for a little bit before going on. "He was a great Spy... even greater father..." He looked eye level into the lockers in front of him, and spoke smally. "But dat's whatcha get fo makin' friends wit da enemies..."

"Scout, I am so sorry-"

"Yeah? Well, I don't need ya apologies."

Dressing up through the whole conversation, he put his hat on lastly and slammed the locker door before leaving. Every conversation he has with that boy leaves Spy in a confused and depressed mood.

* * *

" **MISSION BEGINS IN SIXTY SECONDS!** "

Spy averted his eyes from the speakers in the corner of the big, sickly white room to the back of the roll up door in front of him. Anxiety and fear was all he could feel, fear of the unknown event before him. He started quaking in his Italian leather shoes again.

"ALRIGHT MEN, BATTLE TACTICS IS AS FOLLOWS: ENGIE, YOU AND FIREFLY STAY HERE AND PROTECT THE HOMEFRONT."

"Gottcher back, Hoss." Engineer said casually as he smiled and tipped the rim of his hardhat forward.

"Mmrrf mmb mmf!" Pyro stood next to Engineer and started giggling giddily.

"DOC, YOU FOLLOW HEAVY AND HEAL ANYONE WHO NEEDS MEDICAL ATTENTION."

"Me and doktor make good team!" Heavy wraps one arm around the shorter doctor and squeezes him close.

Medic starts to wheeze. "Oof! Heavy, mien shpine!"

"DEMOMAN... DEMOMAN!" Demo looks up from sleeping on a bench, and looks around frantically until he focuses on the angry American in front of him. "YOU ARE TO HELP MEDIC AND HEAVY BY MAKING SURE NOBODY CROSSES THAT BRIDGE! AND YOU BETTER NOT COME BACK HERE TO SLEEP THROUGH THE BATTLE, OR THERE'LL BE HELL TO PAY!"

"Oh, don't worry 'bout me, boyo. I'll be blowin' 'em up so bad that their chunks 'ill be hittin' birds out of the sky!" Demoman lifted his bottle of rank alcohol in the air to his statement.

"YOU'D BETTER..." Soldier looks to the last three of his team who have yet to recieve their commands. "DOWN UNDER, YOU PROTECT THE BATTLEMENTS AS USUAL," Sniper huffed at the given nickname, but still nodded in acknowledgment. "AND YOU TWO..." He looked and the Scout and Spy with a tiny, wicked grin. "YOU TWO GO AND BREAK INTO THEIR STRONGHOLD, FRENCH FRY DESTROYS SENTRIES WHILE JACKRABBIT RETRIEVES THE INTEL. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?"

"Oui, Monsieur."

"Aw c'mon, man! Do I really need tah do this with him?" Scout gestures with both his arms to the Spy, who looked between him and the Soldier worriedly.

"YES YOU SURE DO, ' _MAN_ '! AND IF I FIND YOU TWO APART AT ANYTIME-"

" **MISSION BEGINS IN TEN SECONDS!** "

Soldier huffs and turns to the door, assured that the two informants knew what was implied and left it at that. "ALRIGHT BOYS, FOLLOW THESE TACTICS, AND WE'RE ASSURED VICTORY! LET'S GIVE 'EM HELL!"

" **FIVE,** "

"LET'S DO IT!"

" **FOUR,** "

"EET'S COWARD KILLING TIME!"

"OKTOBERFEST!"

" **THREE,** "

"YEE-HAW!"

"MMMPF MMB HHRRR!"

" **TWO,** "

"LET'S HAVE A GO AT IT!"

Spy held on to the bottom of his coat and lightly wrung it.

Scout glared over and rolled his eyes when he saw the scared mercenary going through a mini-panic attack, and cocked his scattergun.

" **ONE!** "

The roll up door shot open. It was a frenzy of movement and battle cries and everyone getting to their appropriate stations. For a second, the young Spy lost sight of his partner, whom he was following to the battlements, and when he saw him again, he was leaping across the pointed roof of the bridge that laid between the two forts. Spy got close to the edge and cupped his hands around his mouth. "*huff huff* Scout!"

"Ya bettah catch up with 'em, mate." The younger man almost shot off the battlements when the voice, just above a growl, sounded behind him. "Mongrel's real easy to lose..."

"R-right." Spy hid behind a sheet metal shield and reached into his coat, and fished out his disguise kit, which he flipped open to look through, when...

"*BANG!* OOF!"

Spy looked up as fast as he could, just in time to see the marksman's body hunch over, slide down the wall and leave a trail of blood behind it. "Oh mon Dieu!" Spy covered his mouth and began to panic again, then stopped when a familiar voice yelled at the corpse.

"OI! THIS IS FROM ONE SNOIPAH TA ANOTHAH. GIVE. UP!"

Spy cloaked and peeked around his 'safety-shield' and sure enough, there he was. The RED Sniper. He looked tons more lively relative to last night, jumping around and... pelvic thrusting? Oh, this was too good! Spy covered his mouth and started to giggle at his gestures, until heavy, angry stomping came around the corner from the main respawn, and back to the same spot where the life was taken away. Spy left shortly after BLU Sniper started muttering curses under his breath, jumping into the water under the bridge and uncloaking to reveal himself as the RED Medic.

He made sure to get into the safety of the RED side's sewage tunnel before he stopped to analyze his own reflection. "Magnificent..." he whispered to himself as he felt along his face. He looked almost like his own Medic, (RED Medic had less salt and pepper going in his hair) and was certainly amazed by his technology. But unfortunately, the device cannot change one's voice. So, he decided to teach himself on the job.

He stood up and brushed himself off, and puffed out his chest. "Ach! Vould you like me to fiddle around in your organs, Herr? Aww, it only looks like a case of ze common cold, might as vell chop you up!" Spy even got the snickering down, as he was walking down a straight line of pipes and unnoticingly going up a flight of stairs. "Oh, zis is rich... rich...  _Reich_! HA!" Before he noticed it, Spy had made it completely out of the sewers and was on the ground floor of the RED base, and was about to crack another Nazi joke, until a pathetic, whiny voice called out to the man he was portraying.

"Yo Doc, c'mon man!"

Spy looked up from his giggle-fit and sure enough, a pained looking young RED stood before him, holding his right thigh with one hand and using the other to hold himself up against the wall. He gimped over a little closer, looked up from his pained grimace, and gave a small smirk. "Hey Doc. Tripped an' fell off da battlements again, tryin' ta jump onta da bridge. Couldja fix me up?"

' _Oh no. Hurry! Quick! Think of something!_ ' Spy looked back and forth, slowly piecing together a solution to this problem. "Um... I von't be able to heal for a couple of minutes, junge... ze medigun needed to be recharged... I can help you to ze Respawn, if you vish."

Scout furrowed his eyebrows in thought, and since he himself didn't know how the contraption worked at all, he seemed to buy the fib. "'Kay, lead da way, Doc."

Spy stood beside him, weaved his arm behind the young man's shoulder blades, lifted Scout's arm over his, and carefully walked the injured boy through the courtyard and up the stairs. When they got to the roll up door of the RED Respawn, Spy stopped, knowing well enough that he couldn't enter. Scout glanced over at the 'Medic' confusedly. "Uh, Medic? Respawn's right dere..."

"HEY, FUCKIN' MEDIC!"

"Oh, vell, sombody on ze battlefield requires mine assistance!" Spy carefully stood the RED against the wall next to the door. "You hobble in zere and get some help, ja? I'll come back later to heal you completely." Spy pats him on the shoulder compassionately.

"Yeah, alight..." Scout looked completely puzzled, but decided not to waste the man's time by asking questions. "Thanks Doc."

Spy jogs off to the small entrance to the RED intelligence room, and upon turning a corner, gets the back of his shirt pulled and almost fell straight on his rump. Spy was about to yelp, when a bandaged hand quickly flew over his mouth. "Hey, shaddap!" Scout whispered into his ear, and let go of the disguised Frenchman. "Sorry fer ruinin' yo game of pretend doctah, but I'd much rathah do my job than watchin' yo treacherous ass and get yelled at by Solly for it." The BLU Scout let go of him and led the way down an angular spiral ramp way. Spy followed, rubbing around his neck where the shirt almost choked him, and was grumbling to himself. At the end of the descent was a big, red room, with computers lining the walls and a giant logo on the floor. Spy looked around, astonished, like a kid at an aquarium. He didn't even notice the Scout turning into a small corridor at first. He caught the boy with his peripheral vision when he started to motion him over frantically, and followed him in. "'Kay Spy, you go in dere 'n sap RED Engie's stupid gun, I can heah it in dere. I'll daht in and grab the intel, got it? "

"Oui, I believe so."

Spy snook around the Scout and peeked into the quarters. A sentry gun was in a corner facing the Intel, calmly moving back and forth with the occasional 'ba-beep'. Sitting next to it on a small wooden crate was a short little RED Engineer, tipping a bottle of beer up in his mouth. His head turned a little and slowly lowered the beer when he saw the 'Medic' enter. "Hey, Doc. Whatcha doin' down here? Battle's 'bove ground."

Spy sported a calm little smile to the enemy. "Oh, just making rounds, checking ze vellbeing of everyone..." He took a short glance into the corridor and nearly froze when the boy was nowhere to be found.

Engineer cocked his head a little to the side. "Doc, you okay? Ya seem a lil'... fidgety..."

"'E should be." Spy felt the small of a blade pressure between his shoulders, not quite stabbing into his flesh. Engineer sat up quick and grabbed his shotgun.

"Spah, whatcha doin', ya snake?!"

"Zat was by far ze worst impression I gave for your Scout, and yet you still bought it. You 'ave to be ze ' _blu footed newbie_ ', as our Scout so doubly named you. So if you promise not to do anyzing rash, I'll give you a quick and painless death..."

Spy's eyes were darting around out of panic and right propped up in a corner opposite the sentry, was the wounded little BLU Scout, holding his gut, still barely breathing and staring pathetically back at him. If he didn't act fast, then both of them wouldn't get out alive, he needed to calm himself. "Good deductive skills, Monsieur, but might I make a suggestion?"

RED Spy's face screwed up in confusion, but he chuckled it off. "Sure, I'll let you 'ave your little bit of fun."

His head lowered, and a wicked grin appeared. "Vous voir en enfer." (See you in hell.)

All the actions after that were executed almost too fast for the naked eye. BLU Spy whipped around to face the RED and grabbed the wrist of the hand with the knife aimed towards his heart. The RED yelped out of surprise, and quickly started to fight back, trying to win back control of his arm. The RED soon had efficiently wrestled out of the BLU's grasp, and swiftly lodged the butterfly knife into the left side of his abdomen, making the Medic disguise evaporate, and a bloody patch bloom across the side of his jacket. An all too familiar 'ba-beep' sounded at the sight, but Spy acted too fast to get any further injuries. He spun the both of them around and used his RED counterpart as a human shield. "GEEEAAAAHHHH!" Bullets were shredding up his back, bits of cloth and blood and flesh flew everywhere.

"OH GOOD GOD!" Engineer scrambled and shut the power off to the gun, filling the room with only groaning from the nearly dead meat-shield. Spy dropped him on the ground like a bag of unwanted rubbish, and darted over to the boy in the corner to assess his injuries. All the while, Engineer made it over to his team's Frenchman, and held him up a little in his arms. "MEDIC! DOC!" He started calling out towards the hallways. Spy knew that this was his cue to get out now, and quickly scooped up the boy and ran, not even giving the intelligence behind them a second glance.

* * *

'BANG!'

"DO-MI-NATED!" RED Sniper called out across the battlefield. "Keep goin' this way, and I might start gettin' bad at this!"

While waiting for his favorite target to respawn, he scanned the area over through his scope. As a little red dot danced across the opposing fort, the sound of feet hitting dry earth grew and sounded from underneath, causing Sniper to lower his scope and look around himself. Spy ran out of the ground floor entrance towards the bridge, and had stopped to try to catch his breath. A little crimson trail had followed him, and was started to pool around his left foot when he stopped. The pain was causing him to shake uncontrollably, making carrying Scout nearly impossible. Sniper looked on, trying to make sense of it, when he heard multiple sets of feet heading towards the weakened man.

He acted on instinct.

He jumped off the battlements with the grace of a leopard and ran to them. "Spook! Gimme tha boy, Oi'll help ya get back." Spy gave a look of concern on his paled face, and looked at the boy in his arms, who had passed out from over-bleeding. "Promise, Oi wouldn't hurt tha neither of ya."

"LEFT FLANK, HARCH!"

Both their heads wound back and looked out of fear. "Oui! Merci, for ze assistance!" Spy gimped over and practically poured Scout into the Aussie's arms.

"Zis way! Raus, raus!"

They both started to run across the bridge, but in no time flat, Spy got left in the dust, huffing and grabbing at his sore side. He had stopped about 3/4's of the way off to catch his breath, and he too lost consciousness as he fell, hard, on his face. Sniper made it to the entrance way, and stopped inside it to look behind himself, and rolled his whole head as well as his eyes. "Aw Spook, c'mon!" He turned to the inside of the door to set the limp Scout down, and ran back to retrieve the fallen BLU. Sniper grabbed around the Spy's middle and slung him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and sprinted to the cerulean base.

When he sat Spy down next to Scout, the hard, ragged voice broke over the intercom. " **VICTORY!** " Sniper knew for sure that his teammates will be coming over for a celebratory sweep of the enemy base, so with a last minute idea, he took out his kukri and waited.

Thunderous footsteps rained across the dry ground, and intensified with each passing moment, until four RED mercenaries completely ran by the fifth, and only one caught sight. The Demoman backtracked to take a second glance. "Oh lad... ye took two 'oh 'em on by yerself? An' es that their bloody spy?"

"Yeah, mate. Took 'em out while they were runnin' out 'o the base." Sniper scratched the back of his neck and looked down at the bodies. Any longer without medical attention and they will be mere corpses.

"Thas good, boyo!" The Scotsman patted hard on his friend's shoulder, and quickly started off for the rest of his posse. "I'll make sure ta tell the res' o' tha lot!"

Sniper eagerly waved him off and waited until the footsteps were out of earshot to pick up the two injured men and sling each one over a shoulder, and sneak along, listening intensively.

One pair of ears caught the whole thing. He didn't even act surprised, either, as he sat there on the BLU barracks, hiding from the REDs, and listened. He merely just shook his head disappointingly. "Oi thought ye would've learned from the first toime..."

* * *

The coast was clear enough to run up the stairs to the main respawn, gently set down the two against the wall, knock, (almost bang), on the door, and take back off with the rest of his team before anyone could notice.

The BLU Medic hesitantly slid the door open and peeked around, hoping that it wasn't a cruel joke that the REDs where playing at. There was no sight of anybody at first. That is, until he looked down at the two bleeding teammates sitting by the door, propped up against each other. "Ach Got!" He reached down to the nearest to the door, Scout, and started dragging him in, leaving a big blood smear in his wake. He yelled back behind him in the room. "Somevone! Anyvone! I require assistance!"

* * *

"AND FURTHERMORE, I HAD INSTRUCTED THE TWO OF YOU TO STICK TOGETHER, TO  _WORK_  TOGETHER!" Soldier was pacing the foot of both the Spy's and Scout's hospital beds, shaking his helmeted head and puffing on a fat cigar. "IF YOU WOULD HAVE FOLLOWED THESE SIMPLE ORDERS, WE WOULD HAVE A BIG RED SUITCASE TO SORT THROUGH! INSTEAD, WE HAD YOUR SORRY ASSES AT OUR DOORSTEP!" He turned his attention to Scout, who was looking away to try to keep himself composed, and started yelling at him. "AND I KNOW FOR A FACT THAT IT WAS MORE THAN LIKELY  _YOU'RE_  DOING THAT WON OUR FAILURE-"

"It was me."

Both men turned their attentions to the pathetic Spy in the bed, his abdomen wrapped with gauss and dark circles under his eyes. He had requested Medic to leave his balaclava, and everything under it, alone. All the rest of his blood incrusted clothes were removed and replaced with hospital grade sweatpants. He was half-tucked into his bed, and was staring at the ceiling to avoid their eyes. "It was me." He said even quieter. "I had accidentally blown our cover, got ze boy injured. Zeir Spy got me, and instead of retrieving ze intelligence, I ran ze Scout out of zere. If anybody should receive punishment, it should be me."

Soldier stood out of a slump, and searched for words in his head to say. "Well... don't let it happen again. You're dismissed." He did an about-face with his hands held behind his back, and walked out.

Scout rolled his head in Spy's direction, and glared at him, not out of disgust, but out of curiosity. "Spy," He started quietly. "why'ja say dat? Why didn't ya rat me out? 'N why'ja save me? Ya could've left me ta die, I mean hell, Respawn would've taken me-"

"Because, I wanted to give you something zat even I didn't 'ave until of late..." His head turned slightly to the young man, and made eye contact. "A guardian angel."

 


	4. Illness

_...Thirty two... Thirty three..._  Thirty four. Thirty four cracks in the ceiling. Now what to do? He had successfully counted all the windows, cabinets, gurneys, whatever he could see from his bed in the infirmary. It had only been a couple of hours into the night, and Scout was already antsy.

And bored.

And a little irate.

None of this wouldn't have happened if Spy just left him there. Respawn would have picked him up and have kept him from this bedridden state. He could be  _doing_  something, probably be out with the guys at the local pub! But no, here he is.

Then again, having someone care for him again felt good. It was a selfless act, Scout reflected back on the whole ordeal. Although... he thought he heard and felt someone else carry him at one point or another... but brushed it off.

He looked to the right, over to the gurney beside him where his savior sat up, going thought the same inane activities of glancing about the place, and chuckled. "Guess we'ah both goin' nuts in heah, huh?"

Spy grunted in reply and looked down to his lap, brows involuntarily furrowing in thought. After a couple of long minutes, he looked up at the younger of the two. "I wanted to ask somezing, about your father's death..."

Scout glared at him for a second before speaking. "'Kay, like what?"

Spy turned towards Scout and folded his legs crisscross. "I wanted to ask," He paused. "who do you zink killed 'im?"

"Oh. Well I know fer a fact dat it ain't anybody on our side. Everybody fuckin' loved him." Scout smirked a bit, but then switched right back to his bitter self. "But I could definitively give a guess... That fuckin' RED Spy asshole. Prolly was jealous 'cause Dad was a better Spy..." Scout's face had scrunched up as if saying this left a horrible taste in his mouth.

"Hmmm..." Spy rested his head on his hand, eyes scanning while he thought.

"What?"

"'Ow do you feel, mon ami?"

"Good, I guess..." Scout's face screwed up in confusion. "Why? What's dat gotta do wit anything?"

Spy eased out of the medical bed, sorely hobbled over by Scout's side, offered a hand to him and shrugged. "I zink we should take some time, go on a little fieldtrip. Shall we?"

* * *

Scout definitely isn't a good sneak, that's for sure. Trying as slowly as possible to quietly trudge through the water of the underground RED sewer, Spy attentively listened for any signs of them not being alone when...

*BANG!*

The young Spy swung his head around to see the shaken Scout look up at him meekly. "Heh... thought I saw 'em..."

Spy glared and silently brought his index finger up to his lips. "Shhh... let's refrain from walking to zeir front step and ringing ze doorbell..."

"Oui, I mean, do eizer of you 'ave a clue what time it is?" Both Spy and Scout leaped back and away from the direction of the voice, and almost tripped over each other in the process. RED Spy made no effort in letting his enjoyment show from their reaction. "Non, a better question is, what are you two doing down 'ere, anyway? Ze dynamic duo trying to retrieve redemption?"

Scout puffed out his chest and tried to act like he didn't just got the shit scared out of him. "Ah'd ask da same from yah too, assmunch!"

"Oh, you know moi, just about to leave ze premises to pay your mozer a visit. Thought I'd do one last round before going..."

Scout had to be restrained by Spy in order to keep this meeting from escalating violently. As Scout fought against him and spat and growled like an angry, rabid animal, Spy casually talked over the boy's head. "Actually, if you didn't mind, Monsieur, we wanted a moment of your time to -Ah! Scout don't bite me!" RED Spy raised an impatient eyebrow. "We would like to ask some questions... please?"

"If it's autographs you want, zen ze answer is no."

Oh god, this guy's a little full of himself... BLU Spy continued, with a little fustration."Non. We wanted to know what 'appened to my predecessor. Did you... murder 'im?"

The RED Spy shot a 'how could you even suggest that' glare at the two younger men, and huffed indignantly. "Non, we spies share a, 'trust among thieves', if you will... it's ze reason why I haven't killed ze both of you annoying little rugrats yet. In 'onesty, I tolerated ze man... 'ad a good sense of 'umor-"

"THAT'S A FUCKIN' LIE AN YOU KNOW IT, YA-" Spy covered Scout's venom-spitting mouth quickly, but only half-mindedly. His face was knitted in confusion as he looked from the stagnant water at their feet back up to the man in question.

"So, if you didn't kill 'im, zen who did?"

RED Spy shrugged as he reached for his cigarette case in his coat and pulled a cancer stick from it. "Don't 'ave a clue. Never was too close to ze man. Frustratingly, all I know and remember was zat 'e was good friends with Mundy..."

"Mundy?"

Realizing he just released a little too much information, RED Spy growled. "Aw, merde." He quickly cloaked and buzzed away, not before letting out a not so cheerful "Au revoir."

Spy lowered both his arms as Scout slowly rocked away from his hold, all too aware now of his oral freedom."Goddamn buttfuckin' spies."

"Oui." Spy nodded.

* * *

Most of RED team went on a celebratory outing whenever a victory was claimed, no matter how many times in a row. Sniper, who usually stayed behind, was pressured by the Scout and Demoman to come with them tonight, and ultimately gave in from their constant banter. While others took different cars, the two of them mooched a ride off of him to the quiet little town of Teufort about twenty miles away. As soon as they pulled up in the parking lot of the bar and started piling out, Sniper huffed and hesitantly opened the driver's side door, knowing all too well that HE was more than likely here as well, probably drunk out of his wits... maybe if he stayed in the little crimson group, he wouldn't be confronted by him.

"Yo Snipes, yah coming er what?"

Sniper realizes that he was still sitting in his truck, door open and legs swung out. He gestured them off. "Go on in without me, Oi'll be a tick."

"Alright. Don't stay out here too long, boyo, startin' ta get chill... c'mon Scoot." Scout shrugged as he followed his friend and teammate into the smokey building.

Ah, silence. Sniper sighed with comfort and smiled to himself. Non-judgmental silence. He reached into the visor above the steering wheel and pulled a carton of cigarettes out, content with lighting one up and just staring at the stars overhead. He pulled his Zippo out of his pocket when he heard crunching of footsteps a little ways off, but disregarded it as one of the pub patrons getting ready to head home. That was, until the patron suddenly reached in and grabbed him by the front of his shirt, pulling him out a bit and leaving both of them panting from the quick movements and adrenaline. It was him. Alcohol strong on his breath and his hair mussed up a smidge. He wasn't wearing his hat, but his glasses still perched on his nose, barely concealing his true, raw emotions his eyes were giving. " _You..._ " was all he could muster at the moment, before Sniper started trying to push him away.

"Nigel, yer drunk. Ya need-"

"OI DON'T NEED YA TELLIN' ME WHAT TO DO!" The BLU Sniper snapped. Silent seconds crept with the speed of cold molasses, until he spoke up again, his voice shaky, gravelly and low. "Why didja help him?"

"Oi don't know whacha-"

"YOU KNOW DAMN WELL WHAT OI MEAN, NICHOLAS! WHY DIDJA HELP HIM?!"

Quiet. RED Sniper had felt his stomach drop at the sound of his name being said. He knew he was in for it. He kept his guard up, though, hiding his true emotions away. The calmness seemed to chip away as he got progressively louder the more he spoke. "Because, unloike you... naw! Unloike anybody out here, Oi ain't a brute! Oi saw a man that needed help!"

"Aw, Nicky! Thas why Mum loved ya, eh?" Nigel spat sarcastically. "You're out heah ta _kill_ , not ta make mates! What wouldja think Dad would say ta this?"

"Loike he cares! He disowned me long ago! All they both care about's you and your GODDAMNED LOIFE!"

"Yeah, Oi wouldn't wanna spread around about my faggot son eithah if Oi were them!"

Nicholas tried to lurch forward to overpower his oppressor, only to be held back with the one arm. His glasses fell off at the action, his intense eyes now in the open, swirling with the storm of fury in his brain. He spoke throught gritted teeth. "Take. That. Back."

"Why would Oi do that?" Nigel closed in until their noses barely touched, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face."'Sonly tha truth, ya don't thunk Oi would've seen the pattern?"

The snapping point. He headbutted Nigel's head so hard that a cracking noise rang through the chilly air. The BLU stumbled backwards, giving the RED plenty of opportunity to tackle him to the ground and pin him. The tables have turned. "OI SAID TAKE IT BACK!"

The split on his forehead darkened fast as a trail of ruby ran to the side of his head and into a sideburn. He blunk hard to keep consciousness as he looked up at the younger brother. "Git off me!" He started to wiggle.

"YOU ARE IN NO POSITION TA SAY ANYTHING LOIKE THAT! YA WANNA KNOW WHY?" He bent down close to his older brother's face and hastily removed his glasses, letting his eyes rip his soul apart. He spoke through his teeth. "'Cause all that matters in tha end 'o tha day is who is tha bettah at their job, and today don't look good fer yeh... dominated your scrawny arse."

He got up off of the older's chest, eyes never leaving his, and stumbled into the bar. The only reason for him entering was to tell the two numbskulls that they'd better hitch rides from somebody else, as he was going to leave earlier than anticipated. After receiving sour looks and shrugging them off, he slips back out gracefully, like he was never there. The state his truck was in was a little sad, his headlights were kicked in now, as well as the back being broke into and everything stirred around completely. Only a sigh left his lips.

In a way, he felt like he deserved this.

* * *

He was pacing back and forth, trying not to strangle the boy in question. He was sick. His brother certainly never acted like this, his brother was normal. Was it something he did raising him? Or didn't? Looking back at the son made anger broil in his gut again. "Alroight. Okay. Let me ask you something." He breathed in and out slowly, as if carefully measuring the air's volume with his lungs. "How long have you been... loike this?" The boy, no younger than sixteen, merely shrugs and whimpers. "ANSWER ME!"

Always the voice of reason, Mum intervenes. "Calm down, Howard... I believe it wasn't his choice..."

"Calm down?! CALM DOWN?! ONE OF OUR SONS IS A BLEEDIN'  _HOMOSEXUAL_ , AND YOU'RE TELLING ME TO  _'CALM DOWN'_ , WOMAN?!" He throws a coffee table over in a fit of rage, screaming all the way. It seemed like nobody saw that this was a failure, that this was... unnatural.

"WHO ARE YOU TO TRY TO CHANGE HIM, HOWARD?!" She screamed at full volume, making sure that the Gods above knew her devotion to her child.

"Y'a know what, you're right..." He turned his attention back to the scared little ball on a sofa, and gave him a disbelieving grin. "Yer not apart o' this family anymore-"

He sat up fast in a cold sweat, huffing and gasping like he just ran a marathon in sweltering heat. He hasn't had that dream in a long time, and he thought that he finally had finally gotten over this. He shook violently, recalling every detail, and how he made sure to never cross paths with his parents again.

He wished he had someone, just to break the monotony that was loneliness.

"Oof." He reached his hand up and combed through the front of his hair, then laid back down in his still slightly swinging hammock and checked the time on his wristwatch.

Only thirty minutes of shut-eye.

"Damn."

Despite the countless nights before this with insomnia, of running thoughts, of tired and frustrated energy, hell, even with that nonfictional dream he just had, he fell back asleep in no time flat and quickly started dreaming again.

This one deserved a spot on the down right creepy list.

This one, he's been having all too frequently.

It started in a darkly lit bedroom, similarly set up to his own with a few exceptions. A sleek yet comfortable fireplace was the only light source. There was a king sized bed with red, tacky satin sheets where his hammock used to be, and a lounge chair near it and the fire. Of course, atop the lounge chair, spread across in the most erotic way his brain could conjure up, was himself, clad in only a red silk robe cut mid-thigh.

A knock at the door to 'shave and a haircut' broke the through the quiet and the firecrackle, as he rose his head up to cast a glance at the door. A lustful grin had spread on his face that exposed his pointy canines as he said, low and gravelly, "I'm coming." He got up gracefully and made it to the door, swinging his hips on the way. When he suspensefully opened the door, the person this whole fantasy revolved around was right there, smiling seductively. He was dressed in baggy, blue, worn, pinstriped coveralls, with big old work duds and an over-sized toolbelt slung around his small hips. The only thing he wore that was recognizable was his blue balaclava that shined a little in the firelight.

"Bonjour, did you call for a locksmith?" The words came out smooth and sweet like caramel as his steely eyes travelled up and down the taller man's body.

"Yeah, come in." Sniper said as he turned to walk into the center of the room, Spy right behind him watching all his movements with growing intensity. "I need yer help with sumthin'."

"Oui? Well, I am ze best." He said with a cocky attitude as he watched the man drop his robe and crawl onto the bed with an animal-like grace. Spy almost jumped onto the bed after him, and pinned him with thin arms at both sides. "I can pick any lock."

Sniper writhed around, and almost gasped out desperately, "Can you pick the one to me heart?"

"I believe I already 'ave." A cocky grin slowly moving towards a stubbly one, planning to meet halfway, when the whole moment evaporated and left Nicholas staring at the ceiling with wide eyes, a sweaty forehead and a stark blush across his nose, cheeks and ears. Heaving not as hard as before, he lifted his head off the pillow to check outside, and saw that not only the Sun had risen.

"Aw croikey..." he breathed out as he let his head fall back onto the pillow. "I think I  _am_  ill..."

 


	5. Know Thy Enemy

Ah, mornings. And what a wonderful morning it was.

The air was crisp and tart from the cold, pre-autumn night.

The Sun was casting everything in a caramel glow.

Even the crazy Doctor's birds were fluttering about with newly obtained freedom.

This, of course, was giving Scout all the more reason to be grumpy as he followed Spy down yet another corridor. Instead of doing his early morning laps around the base in this gorgeous weather, he chose to come along on yet another one of the man's silly attempts to get information. He audibly let out another irritated huff as he yanked on the back of Spy's jacket, trying to receive attention. "Hey Spy?"

He hesitated any acknowledgement towards Scout, and still marched forward with eyes trained ahead as he answered. "Hmm, oui?"

"Well, uh, aftah dis... I was wonderin' if ya wanted to, like, I dunno, throw mah baseball around with me for a lil' bit before battle today... maybe I could teach ya how ta pitch a fastball!"

Spy turned his head towards the boy and gave a modest grin. "Mon ami, if you 'aven't noticed, I'm not what you would call ze ' _athletic type_ '. You also don't 'ave to follow me, you know..."

"Yeah? Well, ya like ta get yourself inta loads o' trouble-"

Spy chuckles. "Only with you around."

"What's dat supposed ta mean, frog?" They stopped outside the swing doors of the infirmary when they heard what sounded like a loud, pained moan emanating from inside. The both look at each other questioningly before Scout starts to turn away. "Ya know what? I think you can handle things on your-"

Spy grabs him by his arm and pulls him back. "Non, your not going away zat easily-" Their focus goes back to the doors when another groan spills forth.

"Kinda sounds like..." Scout mumbled as he grabbed Spy's wrist out of hidden fear. Scout was right, the voice did sound familiar, but... off.

Spy looked back to Scout before pushing open the swing doors, and held his breath as he did. They were welcomed to the sight of a bloodied, wincing Sniper sitting on a gurney with bottles of antiseptics and bandages scattered around and an overly excited Medic hovering above him and scrubbing a forehead wound with a cotton ball.

"Woah. Looks like you got your ass handed to yah." The boy said bluntly after a couple of pained moans.

Sniper only grumbled a response before Medic purposefully put too much pressure on his gash, which caused him to yelp.

"Now, vat have ve learned from zis?" The Doctor lifted the man's chin so his gaze couldn't be avoided.

"Grrr..."

"I'm sorry..." Medic stepped and leaned on his purple, bandaged foot, and smiled at the growl he got from doing so. "Could you run at by me again? I didn't quite... catch it..."

"GAH! Ta come to ya soona! Damn!" The Sniper pulled back when the German mercifully stepped off.

"It would've been less painful if I had treated it sooner. Zat, and don't get into bar fights while intoxicated. Alcohol is a depressant, and..." Medic stopped himself when he saw Sniper's eyes darting to the area behind him, and turned around to see the two in the doorway. "Excuse me? Is zhere somezhing I can do for you?"

"Uh. Non! Nozing. We were actually just leaving, right Scout?" Spy gave the younger a look as if to silently plead him to play along. Scout's brow furrowed while he tried to figure the motives behind this.

"Yeah..." The runner finally spoke after a few agonizingly quiet seconds, then smiled. "Yeah! We was gonna go play some catch before da battle today! Frog promised! Right, Frog?"

"...Oui..." The Spy huffed, glaring as he did so.

The Doctor looked between them a couple more times incredulously before speaking. "Vell, zat sounds great and magical and what have you, but I do not and vill not have pointless loitering in my Infirmary. Leave, bitte." Medic left it at that and turned back to his patient for further assessment.

Spy took this as some sort of cue to cloak, and left Scout standing by the door for a few moments. When he materialized, he pulled the boy back out into the hallway, and took a moment to straighten his suit back out. "Dude!" Scout started in confusion as he spun around in Spy's grip. "What the hell was that for?"

Spy puffed out his chest and looked down his nose at the younger, just how he'd imagined his RED counterpart would do in such a situation, and dramatically reached into his suit jacket to pull out two manilla folders and held ithem close to his face gloriously. "Espionage, mon ami."

"Oh wow! You've only been on da base for three days, and you're already a faggot!" Scout huffed, then looked at the folders that were still being held up, now with a little less enthusiasm. "So... what are dose?"

The Frenchman tucked the folders away in his coat with a sneer. "Nozing at pertains to you. Now, if you will excuse me, I will be in my room for the remainder of ze morning."

As Spy started down the hallway, Scout shouted back. "FINE. WHATEVAH! I DON'T NEED YOUR SCRAWNY FRENCH ASS!" The boy then darted off in the opposite direction. 'Oh dieu...' The rouge rolled his eyes. He did feel bad for leaving the boy on his own, but this was of top priority in his mind at the moment. When he got to his room, he slid in, locked the door behind himself and dropped the folders on a nearby desk. After finding a fountain pen and taking off and putting his suit jacket to the side, he took a seat at his desk and stared the files before him. He shouldn't be stalling like this, he's delt with sensitive documents before, even seen some of the current mercenaries' records.

Spy slipped a hesitant thumb under the cover, and flipped the folder open.

The first file that he snagged was the prior BLU Spy's records, and what was laying on top of the small amount of papers inside seemed to be an autopsy report. Two crude sketches of a male were centered in the page, one for the front of the body, one for the back, and were covered in lines zigzagging across. Later in the report they were reveiled to be gashes and cuts, and the man died from drowning in his own blood. Spy dug deeper into what little the file had to offer, and came across what appeared to be a marrige certificate. His name was Alexandre Archambault. He was married in 1946 to a Madeline Walsh. They were both young, him 20 and her 19.

Spy's brow knotted with thought. Why would BLU go through all the trouble to try and cover this up? Why didn't they tell them that instead of retiring, he was killed off duty? Scout had completely idolized the man, recounting all of his favorite memories with his father to him. It was such a terrible way for anyone to die...

He closed the folder quickly before it stirred up his own emotions too much, and shifts the tan file to bring up the other one. "Well, it's got to be in here..." he told himself aloud. He knew that the BLU Sniper was related to the RED, hell, he saw what he believed, without a doubt, the eldest of the two in one of the RED's pictures on the wall, and it was perfect that the Doctor had left his medical documents unattended while treating him.

Shot records, *flip* medical history, *flip* birth certificate, *flip* ah, just what he was looking for. A record of his immediate family. A small grin grew across his features as he read from the top on down.

Father

Howard Mundy (martial status: married) Currently employed/ No affiliation with TF Indust.

Mother

Elizabeth T. (Lloyd) Mundy (martial status: married) No affiliation with TF Indust.

Siblings

Diana R. Mundy (martial status: married) No affiliation with TF Indust.

Nicholas E. Mundy (martial status: single) Currently employed with R.E.D.

There it was. He sat at the desk a while longer, staring at the document, rereading the last line of text, burning it into his memory.

"Nicholas." he mouthed silently to himself, and never has anything tasted so bittersweet.

* * *

"Faggots. Tha whole lot o' them!" Scout grunted as he entered the outdoor courtyard. He was more than pissed. He knew that any of them could make time for him, they were just too selfish and lazy to do so. "It's alright, I don't need ANY of them to have a good time..." the Bostonian threw one of his baseballs up in the air and with a mighty  _CRACK_ , sent it flying away with his bat.

Little did the kid know, though, that he had an audience of one nearby, and the ball had to land somewhere.

Scout had lowered his bat, and strained his ears to listen for the ball. What was heard was a loud 'smack', followed by an even louder 'THUD'. "Aww shit." Just his luck.

Scout ran towards the origin of the noise, and stopped cold in his tracks when he saw the RED Scout curled in a fetal position, coddling his head between his forarms. He was turned away so Scout couldn't see the damage he inflicted.

"Hey, dude. Ya-ya awight?"

The figure on the ground went rigid as soon as the BLU addressed him. "*sniffle* I'm uh, yeh. I'm fine."

Scout dropped to his knees and helped his counterpart into a sitting position. "C'mon, quit bein' a pussy. Lemme see ya face." The BLU almost wispered. It was the quietest the RED had ever heard him, and it made his face glow a little -more than it already was- as he slowly removed his hand from the left side of his face.

'Oooo, that's gonna be a shiner...' was the first thought that jumped into mind as he let out a chuckle. "Heh, guess you should watch where ya goin' next time."

The RED Scout tried to look as infuriated as possible, but settled for verbal abuse when he couldn't furrow his left brow. " _You_  should probably learn to swing away from da bases instead of trying to knock e'rybody's fucking heads in..." Another tear streamed down his swollen face.

The BLU took a second to scan the surrounding area for any more enemies, then looped his arm around the RED's torso and placed his arm over his own shoulders as he lifted the other up. "Yeah yeah, sure it's all  _my_  fault."

The RED was suprised when he was helped to his feet, but even more so when his counterpart was helping him back to his base. "Uhh..." The boy mumbled, the one undamaged side of his face turning as red as the swollen half. "Where ya takin' me?"

"To your Medic," The BLU Scout's eyes were on his own feet, watching the ground. "I know ya might be able ta take yoself, but it maybe more serious then ya think."

They shuffled in silence until they made it to the roll-up door to the Main RED Respawn. The BLU stood back after leaning the injured RED against the wall, and took a moment to look the boy one more time. "Awright, jus' wait 'till after I'm outta sight, sorry for-

"Martin!"

The BLU jumped back from the sudden outburst from the RED, then stared at him. "Eh... what?"

"M-my name's Martin." The RED held out his right hand and avoided eye contact.

The BLU looked down at the offered hand and took it, not without hesitation. "Uh, 'kay. I'm Caden... ya sure ya awright?"

Martin opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the sound of multiple people behind the door. "Heh, guess dat's mah cue." Caden ran to the beginning of the stairs and looked back one more time. "Next time we should play together, but not with yo face, huh?" They both let off a small chuckle. "See ya, Marty!" And with that, the BLU left.

Martin had watched the BLU sprint away until he couldn't see the blur anymore with a smile. Sure he was sore and upset at him, but excitement prevailed when he finally had the chance to talk to him, even more so when he learned his name. He went into Respawn with a mild concussion and a swing in his step.

* * *

His hands flew up to his forehead as another surge of pain thrummed through is brain, and ultimately remembered another piece of his morning routine that had been forgotten as daydreams took priority. He remembered to at least take his rifle (his trusty kukri and SMG still up in his quarters, a pair of underwear and socks, and now his morning coffee that he so greatly depended on.) He groaned as his thoughts floated involuntarily back to the dream he had, immediately trying to push it back out. He was a 28 year old assassin, not a 15 year old giddy schoolgirl, for crying out loud! He growled lowly before another throb caught him off guard, and shook his head as he looked through the scope again. Soon, the sounds of gunfire and war only accompanied the daydreams, and he gave up trying to concentrate on his job.

He didn't even realize the other presence in the room until a few shakes on his shoulder brought him out of his trance.

He yelped and flipped around, only to see his team's engineer standing behind him with a look of concern. "Slim!"

"H-hey... uh" he huffs a few times to calm himself. "What... what can I help you with, Truckie?"

"That's what I should be askin' you." The Texan was known for checking around and making sure the teammates staying behind defending were doing good on ammunition, most times he seemed to care more than the Medic. Sniper rubbed a hand down his face as the Texan continued. "Ya alright, Slim? You're not doin' so hot out there... Came up ta check on ya, took a good amount of hollerin' on mah end ta bring ya back down ta Earth."

The Aussie looked up and feigned amusement. Engineer only had good intentions, but he'd much rather be alone right now. At least it wasn't their Soldier repremanding him... this time. "Yeh? Well, Oi guess Oi ken safely say that Oi'm not feelin' a hundred percent today... 'got the worst bleedin' headache..."

"If ya want, Slim, I can build a dispenser up here for ya." The Texan lowered his goggles to around his neck and tilted his helmet up to idly wipe his forehead with the back of his left hand. "Make it easy on ya today."

Sniper dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand. "Aww, no worries. Oi'm not that awfully important. E'ryone down there needs it more then me."

"Naw, I insist-" They were suddenly interrupted by the creaking of floorboards and turned to the entrance to the small area as Pyro barged through the door with a muffled grunt. "Pyro?"

Sniper growled and rolled his eyes at the second intrusion to his nest. "Mmgmmnmm!" The firebug started motioning frantically to the stairs and mumbling more incoherently than usual.

"See?" Engineer turned to see Sniper taking his place back in the window frame, looking out across the battlefield. "They need yeh down there more then Oi need yeh up here."

The Texan knew when he wasn't wanted, and took his leave, not before giving the Aussie a hearty pat on his shoulder. Sniper almost let out a sigh of relief, until the presence of the other got him to turn his head around to peak back over his shoulder. Pyro was staring at the entrance after Engineer as he started walking toward Sniper, making him panic a little. "Eh..." Sniper shifted uncomfortably as he stared back up at the souless goggles that had turned to face him, then furrowed his brow when he noticed that Pyro's suit wasn't giving off that characteristic sqeak when it moved, as well as the respirator not loud and whistly at all. His features soften and his shoulders slump. "Give it up, Spoi..."

"Mh dmmt knmm mmt mm mmn." The rubber-clad man shrugged as he muffled.

Sniper reached out and brushed the paper mask off and onto the ground, and in a spectacular poof of lights and smoke, the BLU Spy appeared. The Frenchman's eyes went wide as he stood as still as a statue. "... Bonjour?" He squeaked as a tiny scared smile appeared.

Sniper couldn't help but smile back. "Ya know..." He started, looking over his aviators at the shorter man. "Yer getting better at this. Almost thought you were Mumbles. Hell, yeh even tricked Truckie, and he usually catches on before Oi do." His cyan eyes were electric still, even despite his migraine, and Spy could only stutter out syllables of thanks. "So." Sniper leaned up against the support beam to the open window, one leg propped up with him. "Since yer up here, Oi betcha yer gonna try ta practice on meh?"

Spy cocked his head to one side, confused. "Practice?"

Sniper proceeded to do a stabbing motion, making a pop noise to add to it. Spy shook his head frantically and waved both his hands in front of himself. "Non! Non! Of course not!"

"Well, guess Oi ken trus' yeh. Even if yeh did get rid o' meh, Oi'll only come back ten toimes more pissed." The taller of the two let out a low, gravelly chuckle, similar to the ones he saves for the daily war. "C'mere, mate. Ken take a seat on the crate."

Spy looked down to his left at the small wooden box that the taller man offered to him and simultaneously blushed and nodded. "Oui, merci." He sat, rested his hands on his knees, and looked back up to the Aussie. "Well, I came here for a couple of reasons..."

"Oh really?"

"Uh, oui. First, to zank you for saving me and my collegue. I have to admit, I still don't trust ze Respawn, heh, I would be lying if I said zat I wasn't afraid to die." The Spy lowered his head and shoulders at this admittance, and trained his eyes onto a suddenly intresting crack in the floorboards.

Sniper waved a hand at him. "Come off it. I saw a couple o' blokes in need! It wouldn't be professional of me not ta lend a hand. And hey," The taller of the two leaned forward and playfully looked both ways before waving the other to scoot closer and whisper. "dying still scares me, too. Nevah got ovah the feelin' of it. Still can't."

Spy was entranced with the sound of the RED's voice, and Sniper chuckled as he sat with a dumbfounded look. "Well, it's much appreciated..." he paused a moment to tack on "... mon ami."

Sniper nods as he gets up and sits next to the BLU on the crate. He reached into his vest and pulls out a box of cigarettes, then flipped it over and started to tap the bottom as he looked back at Spy. "So, what else ya gotta say?"

Sniper pulled a cig out and led it up to his mouth, in which the Spy's eyes followed in hot pursuit. "I w-wanted to ask, If it's not too personal, if you remembered what happened on the night of- non, I don't smoke..." The frenchman shook his head at the offered cigarrette, to which the Sniper mumbled to himself 'Never met a spoi who didn't.' "If you remember what happened to my predecessor on the night of his murder."

Every action the Aussie was doing up to this point froze. The silence that followed made Spy regret asking anything in the first place, and had him quickly reeling back. "I-I'm sorry I asked, I'll just... take my leave..."

Spy had made it to the entrance to the loft when he heard the grumble, just above a whisper, talk after him. "..Knowin' him, he was probably expectin' it. Never was too far behind anythin' around here." Spy looked back to the man, hesitantly settled back down next to him and only gave undivided attention. "Now that Oi look back on it, the Spook did seem a little solemn... like if someone in his family died." He paused for a moment before continuing. "It was his birthday, and Oi promised him that I'd get me ol' icebox from the truck, an' we'd jus sit up here with nuthin' but the radio an' eachother's company. Sometimes we'd start talkin', but he'd drift off." The whole time the man had been recollecting, Spy had been scanning his emotions, and had felt even worse now about asking anything when he saw the color drain from the man's face. "Anyway, he... he stayed 'til eleven, he t-told me thanks... fer the time... heh, and putting up with him, being his friend, and he left. Never saw the man again after that. Oi didn't hear anything about it until Oi heard that yer team was recuitin' a new spook..."

The both fell into a pit of silence, both processing what had been said, both staring out into the battlefield as the war raged on without their participation. After a moment or so, though, the RED's eyes widened as a lithe hand rested on his upper back, and started rubbing circles in between his shoulder blades. A kind gesture, but he hadn't expected it, reacting by jumping a little at the intitial touch. He looked down beside himself at the smaller mercenary, his eyes showing a degree of understanding to the assassin as he wrapped two thin arms around his middle and resting his head on the side of his chest. Sniper drug him in a little closer, left arm draped across his shoulders. They sat atop the crate against the wall, enjoying eachother's company in silence. Nothing was said, even after everyone was dismissed and sent to their respected bases, only glances, smiles and a hug were exchanged.

After all, actions speak volumes.

 


	6. A First Time for Everything

"Tristan! Hurry up!"

The two children stopped and waited on the winding dirt road for the third to catch up, taking in their surroundings while doing so. Rolling wheat fields danced around them as picturesque mountains dotted the horizon. Out just a little further was a rural french village, starting to wake. One of the two, a boy around the age of ten, sighed impatiently as he crossed his arms and looked back over his shoulders to see his companion cheer on the littlest of the trio, whom of which was stumbling over potholes on scratched-up, unsure legs. "I told you we shouldn't have taken the baby along." He muttered.

The girl glared back, but shortly turned around to catch the toddler as he fell against her legs. The eldest rolled his eyes again when he heard her and the small child giggling, and started marching again. "Oh, come off it, Jon. He wanted to come with us! Whenever we leave, he gets bullied-"

"Kid's gotta protect himself." He shrugged as he reached beside himself to pluck a piece of wheat up and put it between his lips. "You can't keep on baby-ing him like that, Margo, or he'll never learn. When I was his age, I was putting all those bastards into place! No one dared to try to fight me." While the boy was ranting, Margo puffed out her chest and made a funny face while mocking him, causing another uproar of giggles from the little boy. Jon immediately spun around and glared, and huffed as he shook his head. "I wish sometimes you could take things seriously..."

"I take things plenty serious. I also know how to have fun while doing it!" Margo smiled as she kneeled down to let Tristan hop on her back. Once she stood up, she shifted a little and followed the eldest.

"Hey Margo?" Came a tiny, slurred voice from behind her.

"Yeah?"

"What does goat cheese taste like?"

"The same way they smell."

"What do they smell like?" Jon outwardly grumbled at the repetitive banter behind him.

"Like butts."

Tristan stuffed his little hands over his mouth to try to stifle the laughter, and after awhile, he was able to speak again. "Can we get some when we get to town?"

"Of course!" She glanced up over her shoulder at the boy as he was pushing his black, feathery hair out of his face. "...I was also planning on getting some chocolate, too..."

"Really?!"

"It depends on how much we can grab." Jon barked back at the two.

"Oh! Can I learn how to grab?" Tristan started to impatiently squirm on Margo's back.

"Aren't you a little to young? And clumsy for that matter."

"I was his age when I learned." Margo protested. "C'mon, Jon, please?"

There was a moment when all that could be heard was the light patting feet hitting solid dirt. "It's not my fault if he gets caught."

When they finally reach the small village, most of the carts and shops lining the street were open, full of customers doing their grocery shopping and vendors bragging about how much more fresh their produce was. He was almost too overwhelmed, but Tristan caught a glimpse of Jon winding his arm through the crowd, reaching into an unsuspecting miester's pocket. He then felt Margo shift as she reached up and snagged a pouch off of a farmhand's belt. It was like magic, how effortless they made it all seem. He wiggled on Margo's back with anticipation, signalling her to stand a little straighter so he could reach hip-height. Little bright eyes lightened up when he found the perfect victim, a young lady with her coin purse hanging limply on her waist.

She seemed too busy with the sale on carrots to notice the francs her mother gave her that morning to buy them with went missing.

As they exited the crowd and met back together in an alley, Margo sat Tristan down, only to turn around and hug him tightly. "I knew you could do it! Quickly, show me how much you made!"

Tristan let his fingers brush the soft, worn leather of the pouch before opening and dumping the contents into his hand. Jon had been quiet up 'til this point, and let out a whispered curse as Margo's jaw dropped.

There had been 25 silver coins in that purse, overflowing his tiny hand.

Needless to say, they ate like kings for lunch, and from that day forward Tristan knew to invest in his skill as a pickpocket. This was one of his most fondest memories from his childhood, and went over it countless times in his head whenever something reminded him of France's countryside, of mountain vistas or of goat cheese.

Or of her.

It has been about a week now since he first sat foot in Teufort, and already the days are getting shorter and the nights more chilly. He was set into a habit of sorts, and a dangerous one no less. He would wait for his teammates to hit the hay before sneaking off to spend the night with his newly-made friend. He knew in the back of his head that this was against the rules, against his contract he signed with TF Industries on the first day. But he couldn't help it!

Nicholas was a great storyteller, he made sure the BLU was nice and comfortable before delving into a tale of his past contracts in different countries, of how indigenous animals, or even sometimes people, attacked him. Of all the exotic things he's tasted or seen. He himself has trotted the globe avidly for missions in his profession, but the way the RED got excited was enough to keep everything fresh.

He would get loud and jump onto crates, reenacting of the time he killed the crocodile that was shown in one of his hanging pictures, and now wearing a few of it's teeth on the necklace he's never seen without. He would get quiet and slink to the ground, pretending to be following a set of tracks and smelling the wind. They would get into fits of laughter with the help of alcohol or the way the Sniper said something. And eventually, they would fall asleep together, propped up against each other and the wall, sitting atop a crate with a quilt wrapped around them.

It was about the time in the morning the Spy would usually start heading back to his respected base, just before anyone could even think of waking, but he decided against it to instead sit up and be conscious for a bit. He really couldn't sleep either way, the crate would start to hurt after a while. He'd much rather listen to the Bushman's steady breathing, feel the warmth of his body next to his seep into his small frame, the grip of his arm that draped around his shoulders tighten and slacken (almost like to make sure he was still there). The early morning sky was clear and full of stars, he could see the Milky Way spilling across it like paint splatters on a dark blue canvas.

After ten or so minutes, he started to feel the Aussie next to him stir. He shifted his gaze to immediately meet those tired blue eyes, glasses skewed and hair messy, his slouch hat tossed somewhere with the BLU's pinstripe jacket. "Bonjour." He whispered, and he felt the arm tighten around him.

"Mornin'." He growled back in reply, his voice stammering a little. "Thought you would've gone back by now. Not that Oi have any complaints 'bout this." He felt Sniper's body shake a little from a chuckle, which made him smile shyly in return. Damn, this man's happiness is contagious.

"Mmm... not yet. I... kinda wanted to start telling you when I was going to leave." While his statement was true for the most part, he was also just as happy staying as long as possible around him.

The RED slowly swung up onto his feet and turned around to wrap his half of the shared blanket around Spy. "Oh? Well, how considerate." He snickered again, letting his hand rest on the BLU's shoulder. "Do yeh loike coffee?"

Spy's thoughts ran to his first night here, of that black sludge at the bottom of the BLU Sniper's mug, and how it almost gave him a heart attack. "Do you 'ave any tea? I'd razzer 'ave zat.."

The Aussie shrugged. "Yeah. At least Oi think so. Here, c'mon with me."

After about ten or so minutes, Spy had a halfway decent looking mug of Earl Grey in his hands as he sat at a big wire spool made to be a table, the smell of percolating coffee permeating the air. He could never get over how simple yet efficient the Sniper had made his quarters to frames and shelves made of broken pieces of crates lined the walls, holding up boxes and camping gear, the sling-bed hanging on the wall lined with quilts he presumed the Aussie made himself, a portable single burner the man was using to pan-fry a couple of rabbit legs next to a mini fridge. The most amazing thing, in his opinion, was the colored glass fishing floats that hung from the ceiling. When the sun started to rise and light seeped through the cracks and holes of the walls, it would hit off of them causing a beautiful array of rainbows, dotting the whole room.

He wasn't staring at that, though.

The Sniper was at a small washbasin near the only window in the room, trying to comb his rebellious hair out of his face. Spy's thoughts went back to the first time he saw the man, of how tired and weighted he looked. He looked infinitely better than he did then, the dark circles under his eyes almost nonexistent. He only realized that his sights traveled south when Sniper went to go save the rabbit from the flame, sputtering curses upon realization that the meat was slightly charred. "Well..." He chuckled a little before scrapping the legs onto a couple of plates set at the table. "I hope ya loike yer bunny 'well-done.'"

The RED went to put the pan in the sink before seating himself across from the Spy, and he internally cursed as his gaze pierced his soul once again. He stared at him in silence for a short while and once amused, he broke the starring contest and pulled the BLU back down to earth. "You'll make me right upset if ya don't at least try me cooking..."

Spy snapped out of the trance he way too often finds himself in and looked down at the plate that seemed to have appeared right in front of him. "Uh, sorry, mon ami. I don't know what came over me." He bent down to scoop a bit of the rabbit in his mouth when he caught sight of the watch on his right wrist. "OH MERDE! I'M GOING TO BE LATE!" Spy hopped up and started gathering his belongings, muttering a string of obscenities in his native tongue and ending it with "... damn you and your enchanting ways-"

Oh god. Did he say what he just thought he said?

Maybe if he pretended he had said nothing and kept on his way-

As soon as he felt the taller man's presence behind himself, it was too late. Nicholas had pinned him with his arms to the wall he still faced, breathing down the back of his neck like a predator playing with its victim before delivering the final blow. "So, ya think Oi'm 'enchanting', yeh?" he growled lowly in his right ear.

Spy sputtered a little before backtracking. "I didn't mean it like zat! I'm sorry, please! Don't kill me!"

Before he could spill anymore pleas out, Sniper turned him around and calmly quieted the shorter man down, stroking the side of his masked face. "Shh.. hey! Calm down, Spook. If Oi wanted to kill yeh, Oi would've done it a long toime ago. Jus take it easy, love. Oi was jus havin' me fun."

Love? Did the man just called him 'love'?

But then before he could analyze it any further, Sniper took his head into his hands, starring at the younger man's face for just a fraction of a moment before taking his lips with his own.

It was like all time froze. All of his worries left him and for once, Spy's body lost all the stiffness and anxiety. The kiss held all the personality of the man giving it. Sweet and modest, yet reassuring, not at all harsh. The taste was even more perplexing, the lingering flavor of coffee and tobacco danced around their tongues.

It was a good minute before they parted, and when Spy looked back up, he was met with a toothy grin and his jacket offered to him. "Oi guess ya better split before you get yer ass chewed out, yeh?"

Spy took the jacket, never breaking eye contact with the man he swooned after. His face was almost glowing-red, and he swallowed hard before trying -and failing- to say something.

"What? Yeh want another one fer tha road?" The Sniper chuckled again as he bent down to kiss him a second time, further scrambling the poor man's brains. This one didn't last quite as long as the first, but was still just as powerful, and made the BLU's knees buckle as he clung onto the man who was torturing him so. When he picked the Spy back up onto his feet and brushed him off a little, he took the jacket the BLU had clutched tightly and draped it around his small shoulders before patting him lightly on the back. "Ya ken make it back on yer own, yeh?"

Spy spaced for a second before quickly nodding, shaking loose a curly black lock of hair out of the eye hole of his mask. "O-oui, merci." He tucked his hair back as he stared at the cause of the rolling storm of raw emotion in his head, all the while considering the reasons why he needed to go back to BLU. He shook his head and reached for the jacket, putting it on as he darted for the door.

He needs to say something at least, before he goes.

"... until next time, mon cheri.."

* * *

"PRIVATE STICK-LEGS! GIMME ONE GOOD REASON WHY PRIVATE BAGUETTE ISN'T UP, OUT AND HEADING TO THE SHOWERS!"

Scout had been sitting outside Spy's room for about half an hour now, and even he didn't know the reason why he was still there. "I dunno, man - er, sir.. maybe he's still sleepin'."

Soldier straightened up a little and huffed, not liking the answer he was given. "IF THE BOTH OF YOU DON'T COME DOWNSTAIRS WITHIN THE NEXT FIFTEEN MINUTES, YOU WILL BE RUNNING UNTIL YOU HAVE GROUND DOWN YOUR LEGS TO YOUR KNEE CAPS!" The man abruptly turned to take his leave, keeping the conversation at that.

Scout sighed as he rolled onto his knees to face the door, and knocked, hard, several more times. "YO SPAH! YOU'RE LAAATE! SOLDJA'S GETTIN' MAAAD!" He paused to hear for a reply, and rolled his eyes and groaned when he didn't get one. "Dammit, betcha he's in there jerkin' off..." He rolls back against the wall, unaware of another being siting beside him in the hallway.

"I didn't think I came off as zat kind of person to you, Scout."

"GAAAHH!" After realizing that it was just the Spy sitting there, he glared and threw a playful punch to his ribs. "Asshole, why da fuck did it take ya so damn long to get out heah, then? Huh?"

"I slept in."

"Oh, so dat's what dey call it?"

"Oh, get off of it." Spy unconsciously started brushing his suit, standing up.

"Whatevah, let's go so we'ah not da last ones to make it to breakfast. C'MON!" Scout sprung up and started jogging down the hallway as Spy followed not too far behind.

Finally getting a chance to eat did sound good, after all.

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Soldier's Heart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3177351) by [Dagnabbit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dagnabbit/pseuds/Dagnabbit)




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